I'm Iron Man, And I'm Agent Coulson

Chapter 3 Gone

Ten Hours Later

"Colonel, how far back's Tony's transport? Have your convoy slow down, I can't even see Tony's truck anymore," I asked hurriedly, while Rhodes and I, along with our thirty soldier detail, and military brass, drove down a dirt road, heading back to Bagram Airforce Base in Afghanistan.
I fidgeted in my seat, constantly turning around and searching for Tony's convoy, which had fallen a few miles behind us, but the nervousness in my body wouldn't be alleviated, only got worse while our dust trail blocked most of the road behind us.

Hours earlier when we arrived at the tarmac in L.A., the unease in my stomach was so overwhelming, I stumbled onto the plane alongside Tony, Rhodes and Happy. Both Tony, and James were a little shocked to see me take a seat next to Happy, and strap in, but I shrugged and just waved them towards the back end of the plane.
Rhodes asked why I decided to join them this one particular time, as we disembarked seven hours later,  especially after swearing I would never head back to the middle east, but again I just shrugged my shoulders, and stayed close to Tony, as my trepidation prickled my skin.
I texted Pepper letting her know we were gonna have to reschedule her dinner, but for my own peace of mind, I needed to stay by Tony's side. She didn't ask questions, but completely understood, and wished us luck as the plane took off and headed for Afghanistan, while I fidgeted in my seat, only to have it get worse the closer we got.

During the demonstration, I stood towards the back, away from the brass, while Tony gave his usual half-assed speech, and his new missile went off, but the itch between my shoulder blades didn't relent.
Stark was obviously bored, and going through the motions of giving a shit, but I rolled my eyes as he handed me a drink, and told me to relax a little. 
Yet, once the demonstration went off without a hitch, the contract signed, and a drink with Tony, the sick feeling in my gut refused to leave, exacerbated by sand and mountains.
Even after Tony's little booze spread made its way around the ranks, and the generals from various military organizations were pleased, nor when we loaded up into the humvees did it dissipate.
I assumed it was because we were in Afghanistan, which was where I flew my last mission, before I retired, but it wouldn't go away and tugged at my mind, making me irritated and edgy. It seemed to get worse the farther behind Tony's humvee got, and I was pissed I'd let Rhodes pull me into his truck, but the look on his face let me know there was no point in arguing.

"He's surrounded by twenty soldiers, Tony's fine, but you wanna tell me why you decided to join us on this trip, especially since we're back in Afghanistan?" Rhodey asked, but went ahead and gave the order to slow down, "you've been fidgeting and looking around since we got on the plane?" 
"Not really, maybe I'm just tired," I exclaimed quickly, turning back around and looking at the long trail of dust behind us.
"Is it the same feeling you had in Kandahar?" He asked blantantly and slowly, knowing how upset talking about the accident would make me, "you said you'd never come back here, ever, and like I said, Tony's surrounded by a twenty man detail, he's fine (y/n), you on the other hand..."
An uncomfortable silence enveloped the cab, once he mentioned Kandahar, and it made my legs shake in agitation, and guilt.
The accident happened years ago, but on some night's I could still hear my crew screaming for help as the wing of the Nimrod tanker, which was almost done refueling their cargo plane, exploded in flames, inevitably taking my crew with it.
The same wayward unease forced me to warn my CO's to wait, that my crew would be able to land in Bagram to refuel, but my request was denied, and thirteen people died because of it. All I could do was watch from the safety of my own plane, as pieces began slamming into the mountains, unable to do anything, or save any of them. A few months after the accident, and my own hearing, is when I decided to leave the Marines.

"(Y/n) tell me what's wrong, I haven't seen you like this in a long time..," Rhodes started and grabbed my hand.
"Then listen to me, we need to wait or circle arou.." I began quickly, but my plea was interrupted by shouts, and my body jolted forward, as my head began to pound.